


A Symphonic Despair

by zetsubou53



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types
Genre: Brainwashing, Canon-Typical Violence, Corruption, Dubious Consent, F/F, Mind Control, Murder, Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-12
Updated: 2017-05-12
Packaged: 2018-10-30 22:43:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10886436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zetsubou53/pseuds/zetsubou53
Summary: Kaede never knew that she would be betrayed by one of her friends.Let alone be led down the path that would drown her in Despair.Read as the pianist succumbs to her true purpose.





	A Symphonic Despair

**Author's Note:**

> ___  
> Notes: 
> 
> * A very special thanks to BloodOrangeSangria for the editing suggestions  
> * This is set in an AU where the cast of Dangaronpa V3 are becoming one with Ultimate Despair.  
> * Contains typical Danganronpa violence and brainwashing with an erotic twist.  
> * Joint Image (NSFW): https://www.pixiv.net/member_illust.php?mode=medium&illust_id=62308618
> 
> \---
> 
> Any and all comments and feedback is appreciated! Please let me know what you think and if you'd like me to write more stories!
> 
> \---

-The following diary, written in a simple composition book labeled ‘Kaede Akamatsu,’ was found in her study. Previous pages have been messily torn from the diary. This is what remains. - 

 

...with me losing consciousness soon after. I never thought going alone would have led to all of this. Well, it’s more like I was surrounded by Junko Enoshima, her sister, and a few others, but after a while, I realized how alone I really was. None of them were my friends.  
  
What happened next, I will never forget. My cohorts took me to a theater I never knew existed beneath this academy! As I struggled and protested, the freckled one who captured me bound me up in a straight-jacket, before strapping me into a ridiculously large, wooden chair.  
  
“What are you doing?!” I demanded. I didn’t really get an answer. Instead, the kind, sweet Ms. Yukizome forced me to sit.  
  
“Calm down, dear,” she said. She seemed to be adjusting the buckles around my jacket and the chair. With a surprising amount of strength, she pulled them down whenever I attempted to break my fetters. “Just be a little patient, okay?”  
  
Cool metal pads pressed down onto my scalp as the teacher (why Ms. Yukizome?) in the red apron and dress prepared me for God knew what. No matter how much I yelled or pleaded, it didn't seem to matter to them at all.  
  
Then the movie started.  
  
At first, I was perplexed. It started with the council in a classroom, apparently under the pretense of some sort of meeting. Before they knew it, they were locked in. I don’t remember the pudgy, male student’s name, but he tried to encourage everybody to escape together. I remember nodding the first time I saw him; good idea, whoever he was.  
  
That was not to pass. A young man with a bowl cut was the first to pick up a gun. He was going to kill “those two.” I didn’t know to whom he was referring, but it didn’t matter: he spilled a cup of blood in the water, and all the other students were ravenous sharks.  
  
Things escalated quickly from there. Before the bowl-cut guy knew it, the young woman with glasses had run him through with a katana. Soon, everybody had grabbed some sort of weapon, ready to gouge or be gouged.  
  
As the burly student protected a young lady in a rabbit hoodie, I realized what I was watching. Despite his move, he was gunned down.  
  
"No..." I whispered to myself. “These people...this is…”  
  
I felt my stomach lurch. Despite my urges, something - not a part of the apparatus I was attached to, but some other force - compelled my eyes to look at the screen. I couldn’t close my eyes, or even look away. Even when I tried, the image had been burned into my brain. Into my _soul_.  
  
There was one touching moment when a young couple, both of whom with handguns, put one to their partner’s throat. It was all they could do to escape the blood-soaked blitzkrieg that occurred around them. She watched, with a sort of morbid happiness, as they both put guns to the other’s throats…  
  
The bang that followed did not come from either of them. Only the young woman died on the spot. It was then I felt something die inside me; they had been so close. The bloodbath had swiftly changed, yet my brain had trouble processing beyond that attempted double love suicide.  
  
It was just a movie. It _had_ to be! This had to be some sort of B-rated, cheaply-made horror film!  
  
In-between it all, I heard Junko Enoshima's voice behind me. I'll never forget her words. They sounded so authoritative and precise - quite unlike the Junko I was accustomed to. "As you can see, class, the subliminals embedded within the frames of the picture have caused the subject to experience a death-like paralysis, along with deep feelings of helplessness, terror, and despair. The audio guides the subject's focus, while the induced eye movement from the subtle changes in coloration manipulates her memory of the experience."  
  
I wouldn't know what she was talking about until much later.  
  
The Ultimate Despair then continued her long-winded explanation: "This culminates in robust activation of her amygdala, hippocampus, anterior cingulate cortex, insular cortex and primary visual cortex.  One of our earlier test subjects described it as being like 'death', 'a sense of stifling and drowning'. It is during this period that we have found the subjects will make their most rewarding associations between this catastrophic experience, their environment, and the hopeless violence that they see!”  
  
Then, for whatever reason, the voice behind me changed. Even as the bloodbath blitzkrieg presented itself before me, I couldn’t stop myself from hearing her bratty voice. Maybe I was trying to escape that way....  
  
“Ahh... Now I made myself jealous.. Like, the kind of jealous that makes you want to slap the word "super" in front of it... Super-super-super-super jealous... No maybe more like..."  
  
She went on like this. Between her high-pitched, _gyaru_ voice and the panorama of gore, something in me snapped.  
  
"STOP! LET ME GO! STOP IT!" I interrupted. All I heard in response was a mix of laughter, sighs and aww’s of excitement. "I'M GOING TO BE SICK! I want to get up! Stop the film... Please, stop it!  I can't stand it anymore! Stop it, please... PLEASE!"  
  
"Whoa! Like, how _rude_ , Little-Miss-Piano-Freak! I was _totally_ trying to monologue, there!" Enoshima replied. "Although.... _upupupu_... it sounds like we're off to a _beary_ promising start!   By my calculations, you'll be feeling fine, beary soon! Ms. Yukizome, go help our student grin and _bear_ it through the homestretch! We mustn't let our promising student fail when they're soooo close!"  
  
"Hee hee! Roger-roger!" a familiar voice chirped.  
  
It was then I felt Ms. Yukizome's hands around my chest. I could not see what she was doing as I stared, transfixed upon the cinematic perversion bombarding my eyes. I was aware of each twisted touch upon my chest, each lewd caress of my nipples, each teasing lick upon the nape of my neck...all while I became oblivious to the number of times the unspeakable horror footage danced across my pupils.  
  
I soon realized that with each looping of the movie, the horror and terror gradually subsided. Skin-crawling appallment morphed into goosebumps of anticipation. Stomach retching nausea became breathless butterflies within my stomach. My eye-twitching attempts to resist faded into a wide-eyed, glassy stare. Disgust gave way to anxiety, which made way for anticipation and arou-  
  
I jolted forward in the chair as I felt something wet between my legs. The wave of revulsion and horror now returning full force as I regained my senses and awareness. What was I thinking? What was I _doing?!_ This was….this was insane! What did I do to be strapped into a chair, then tortured like this?!  
  
"S-STOP IT!! STOP IT PLEASE!!! I BEG YOU!!!! IT'S WRONG!! IT'S WRONG! ALL WRONG!!! PLEASE!!" I cried, tears streaming down my face.  
  
As I screamed out the words as loud as I could, I felt the teacher pause in her groping. For just a moment, I thought I had reached her.  
  
"Aww, my dear Kaede...It's okay! I know you're feeling so horrible and wrong as you watch this, but we have to be hard on you. You have to be cured...You _must_..." she whispered in my ear, before nibbling the earlobe gently.  
  
"But-! This is.. This is... Why is this... This feeling isn't right! This whole thing is wrong!" I yelled, my voice cracking as my breath became ragged and labored.  
  
"Well, of course, it's wrong! Being good is a _horrible_ thing. That's what you're learning now. Your body is learning it..." she whispered again.  
  
"I..I don't understand...! Why is being 'good' ba-" I gasped breathlessly, moaning in anguish and exhaustion. For hours, I tried to endure as my mind, body, and spirit were assailed in that torture chair. Emotion and consciousness ebbed and flowed as I felt Chisa's fingers slide inside of me, plucking at my clit as she eroded what remained of my feeble will. I helplessly opened and closed my thighs repeatedly. My hips squirmed and turned back and forth, but no matter where I moved it was to no avail. My slit continued to tingle in anticipation.  
  
To ache in arousal of what was happening to me.  
  
Another moment of clarity emerged from the fog of sensory overload. I had to stop this. I had to somehow get them to stop. I realized now what they wanted. It was all too clear.  
  
"Oh yesss... Yes, Junko..." I yelled out breathlessly, sweat pouring down my face. "You've proved it to me... That all of this ultra-violence, mayhem and despair is... hopelessly erotic and right! I've learned my lesson, mistress! I completely understand...I see now what I've never seen before... I'm.. I'm cured!"  
  
"Aww, how cute! She's lying to get free! Hehehehe...That's our resourceful protagonist, fighting to the very end~!" Tsumugi Shirogane said, giggling madly. "She's written so well!! Willing to lie in the face of despair to grasp hope in this twisted situation! Even cornered she tries to win and make it to the end!"  
  
"I-I'm not lying!!" I spat out, drool sputtering from my lips. "Shut up!"  
  
"Oops!!! EPIC FAIL! Whad'ya fuckin' know... Looks like you missed with your last lie-bullet!" Junko cackled, laughing wildly. " _Upupupu!_ No, you're not cured yet, my little cinnamon roll. By my count, you've got a few more hours to go in your oven before you're nice and baked!"  
  
"No, I can't! I CAN'T! I said I get it! I GET IT!" I stuttered.  
  
"Calm down, dear. You really _must_ leave it to us," Chisa cooed softly above me. "Cheer up. In less than...maybe eight hours, you'll be free!"  
  
I moaned. Junko Enoshima smiled. The film played on, and Chisa continued to molest me. Touch me. I’d never been touched...groped...teased like this before. In retrospect, she was probably right: it had to be roughly 8 hours of heat, licks, and gentle fingers prodding my exhausted body.  
  
The moans I made in despair, the cries I made in despair, the breathless sighs of despair, all felt natural now. There was nothing else. No escape. No resistance. No hope at all.  
  
I lost. I was not going to make it. I felt myself splitting apart while my skull felt ready to tear open to release the misery. I was dizzy. My tongue lolled out of my mouth like that of a tired dog.  
  
Then, it came.  
  
It was like a headrush. Things began swaying. The room shrank around the screen, and all I could focus on was the film being forced through my eyes. After all this time, I had begun to _like_ it.  
  
In fact, it was the most amusing movie I had ever seen in my life.  
  
Oh bliss, sheer bliss and heavenly pleasure! I sat there defeated, exhausted and aroused. My pupils dilated, lips curled in a rapacious smile, as I felt just how wet my pussy still was. My panties and the chair were now soaked, sweat mingled with my wetness.  
  
As I shifted in the chair to comfortably watch the video, an audible squish escaped from the seat of the chair. Ah, that noise, this feeling, was beauty and sensuality made flesh. It was almost as if I could feel the new thoughts and commands flowing behind my eyes, then melting into my mind. By the time the movie flashed the hopeless end of the couple who were denied the chance to escape from the horror around them, my legs had pressed themselves together in desperation. I ached to stick my fingers beneath my panties and tease my own damp petals.  
  
“I’ll get that~” someone said. It was probably Chisa. I didn’t care.  
  
It wasn’t Chisa’s groping that had made me this hot. It was just the ecstasy of pure, unfiltered, undiluted despair.  
  
The violence, the ferocity, the killing harmony of the student council stimulated the shattered remains of my libido and as Chisa's hand slid downward past the hem of my skirt and into my panties, I let out a raucous cry of pure, unfettered desire. My slit was wet and waiting, and the first graze from Chisa's fingers sent electricity right up my spine.  
  
I climaxed right as the final execution of the Killing Game had finished, and the victims’ screams had reached their crescendo. I slumped in my chair as my head fell forward. I sighed in exhaustion before giggling softly at my depravity. In that moment, the last of my humanity had been extinguished, snuffed like a candle in the winds of a storm.  
  
There was really nothing strange about it at all. My total lust and desire for such sadistic, and perverse pleasure was completely normal. After all, how would anyone _not_ find this erotic after going through what I did? Sure, I’d been brainwashed, but who cared? This was fun! Exhilarating! I caught myself sighing in pleasure as the movie began again.   
  
As I stared in awe at the hundredth playback of the massacre, I marveled at my own helpless obedience. What was so wrong about this? Nothing! Junko had been right the entire time. The commands were now crystal clear to my new despairified awareness. Just thinking about the next viewing of the Killing Game made me want to...   
  
I chuckled weakly in the dark. The realization of my pitiful state made me even more turned on than I was before.   
  
Junko truly was a Master at this. The realization of the magnitude of her marvelous existence made the prospect of obeying her all the more arousing and satisfying. I sighed as I felt the relief and freedom of pure devotion and obedience. It was a new existence. A freer existence. An existence born from the execution of my mind and previous identity. This was the new me, risen from the ashes and debris of my sanity.  
  
Reminiscing about the traumatic day the previous me was destroyed always brings me such arousing and pleasurable despair. I suppose that's why I felt the need to write this all out. That way, I can read it again and again, remembering the pianist who believed in a better world, only to laugh as she burns before my eyes.   
  
But...  
  
I suppose leaving a record of my fate and how I _really_ am would be pretty incriminating if someone else found it. They'd know the truth of who I am and what happened to me...that would be awful, wouldn’t it?   
  
Ahhh... just thinking about such an outcome... My toes are curling in excitement! Maybe such an end would fill me with an even deeper despair! Stop me if you can!   
  
Or, if you like, you can _join me_.

 

-K. Akamatsu  
  



End file.
